


The Most Undesirable Sentiment

by SeverusSnep



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Food Issues, Guilt, Happy Ending, Healing, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-War, Self-Acceptance, Self-Worth Issues, self punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28536321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverusSnep/pseuds/SeverusSnep
Summary: Severus Snape is a very guilty man... well he thinks he is...
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 5
Kudos: 39





	The Most Undesirable Sentiment

Severus was in his sitting room on the sofa with head in his hands. Nothing he did ever seemed to be enough. He hadn’t been a good son, a good friend, or a good partner. He had tried and tried, forever trying to say the right words or do the right things—but it was never enough. He tried to be a good kid: quiet, small, and out of the way. Yet he consistently found himself under his father’s hand. As he grew, he stayed obedient and tried not to be a bother. He would eat sparsely, shower rarely, and keep to himself at all costs. He wanted to be a good friend. He was always willing to listen, help, or talk, yet he felt the loss of his best friend was entirely his own fault. Even when he thought he was doing the right thing, it somehow always managed to come back and turn around on him. He had tried to protect Draco, and that had ended in him being forced to take a man’s life. What was he to do? He had secluded himself away from the rest of the wizarding world, hoping that would ease their demands of his imprisonment. It backfired fantastically, and resulted in a rather large protest-turned-manhunt for the infamous _former_ Death Eater. Subsequently, he was put to trial a _second_ time.

Severus had never seen so many people in the Ministry at once. He thought for sure that he’d be executed at least… until he saw a mane of brown curls make an appearance. He listened to her admonish a _filled_ courtroom of Ministry officials for their lack of resistance, judgement, and professionalism. He was stunned… as was the room. Appearances were made by other individuals just as memorable to him, but he tried to push the memory from his mind. A blaze of orange and freckles had accompanied unruly black hair as they met the soft brown curls and blew the room to pieces with their testimony on his behalf. He could tell that Granger had most likely written their testimonies, but the sentiment was the same— and it had surprised him. She didn’t argue that he “saved lives and deserved to be pardoned”. She argued that his legal rights to freedom should not be stripped simply because “people didn’t agree with the result of his _first_ trial” and that the second one should never have happened in the first place. His favorite moment was when she said the Ministry ought to have more self respect as to not bend just so that they are more favored in the public eye; that their job was to uphold the law, not to play a popularity contest. He had nearly laughed, but the severity of the situation helped him to restrain himself.

It all roped back into guilt. He was absolutely riddled with it, like a rash that wouldn’t go away. He could scrub and scrub, or starve the energy out of himself and it didn’t make a difference. He would still lay down on a hard, lumpy bed and feel he wasn’t deserving of it. He would still take a bite of food and become repulsed. He wondered what life would be like without it. It tempted him to the brink of madness.

The week after his trial came with a note. He couldn’t figure out how someone had discovered his address, but the handwriting was all the proof he needed. That small, cramped handwriting had addressed the note to him and in three words changed him,

_You’re not guilty._

It certainly wasn’t some big beautiful realization, but it was something. The knowledge that she had truly trusted him, and believed he’d earned his freedom meant much more to him than the declaration of his innocence. Something small clicked, and he was curious as to what would follow. Perhaps one day he could wake up in a comfortable bed, have breakfast, and not be so damn guilty about it.

* * *

As it turned out, it wasn’t long before that wonder became a reality. Granger had come to visit him— well technically she had come to deliver another note, but why she came in person was a stroke of luck. He’d caught her on the stairs, and asked what she was doing. She pointed to the note at his feet and apologized under her breath for bothering him.

“None of that, Granger… why don’t you… _come in?_ ” It was those words, his very own, that would change his life. Once more, there were no fireworks of revelation, but tiny sparks of something new that eventually led to a crackling fire. A fire that warmed them as they sat in front of it, a few years later, sipping tea and enjoying the company of one another.

Hermione had walked through his door and rearranged his life. Unknowingly mending both new and old wounds with her kindness. She brushed the dust off his old soul and brought him back to life with the happiness they shared. In time, he came to see how he’d done the same for her without ever knowing. He accepted her wholeheartedly as she was, taking all the rough edges the same as the smooth. He gave all that he had to give: his time, his words, his affection, his home, his bed, his food, and once he had the nerve… his love. He had watched joy blossom behind her once tired eyes. He noticed a spring in her step that had once been resigned and lifeless. He delighted in the pops and sparks of magic that came to life in her hair when she was overcome with excitement.

Severus rested his head on Hermione’s shoulder and smiled when she pressed a kiss into his hair. He smiled because he loved her, but also because he remembered that he had woken up that morning and didn’t feel so damn guilty about being alive. He didn’t feel so damn guilty about enjoying his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! :)


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